The Unwilling Apprentice
by Sebastian014
Summary: Not long after claiming her place on the Dark Council, Darth Nox's ship was attacked by the Republic. Because of the desperate plan that follows, she ends up on Earth and, like any Sith would, tries to take control of the planet. But, the apprentice she found there has other plans than world domination.
1. The Beginning

It couldn't end like this.

The artificial air on the frigate was being continuously split by the loud blaring of alarms, as a figure clad in black robes stumbled along a corridor. It was umistakenly femenine, and the clothing did little to cover that fact. A lightsaber dangled at her belt, and, along with the colour of her robes, was enough to identify her as a Sith. The vessel shuddered, sending the figure at the wall. She hit it it with a force that left her seeing stars, even though her helmet, as damaged as it was, was still firmly on her head. She tried to stand, to shake it off, but as soon as she was on her feet, her legs gave out from underneath her, sending her crashing to the ground and she had to supress a cry as her knees heavily impacted the metal floor. The Lord of the Sith crawled to the wall, hissing as the movement sent waves of pain from her numerous wounds, and put her back to it. She had to rest. The assaliants were still far away, being held back by what little remained of her followers. Her trembling hands reached up, resting on either sides of her helmet and tearing it away, wincing at the few sparks that jumped from it's circuits at her bare palms. She lost her gloves what seemed like ages ago. The helmet was already damaged beyond repair, nearly useless, unless she decided to pummel someone to death with it(Not really her style). The piece of equipment fell away, now just a heap of sparking metal. Almost immediately, long raven hair spilled down. It was matted with blood and sweat, and it hid her face behind a curtain of black locks. The woman breathed deeply, grunting as the pain exploded from her broken ribs. She closed her yellow eyes, wondering how everything went so wrong.

It was just a normal day. She had gotten up early in the morning, had eaten breakfast and then gotten to work. Being a Dark Council member was as tiring as it was dangerous, so it was better to start early. The meeting had gone as usual, with the other Dark Lords bickering among themselves, even managing to get her into the many arguments. If that was their idea of governing the Empire, it's a wonder the the Republic hadn't won by now.

Then the intel had come.

She cursed her stupidity. She should have never fell for a trap as obvious as this! A messenger had been waiting for her in front of her stronghold, telling her about someone in possesion of an ancient Sith artifact and willing to sell it. She, of course had agreed, because she couldn't just let an oppurtunity like this pass by. 'It will be easy' she had thought, 'Only a fool would attack me now.' She had been so foolish, letting her victory go to her head. And now she was paying the price.

The Republic had been waiting for them with a fleet three times the size of the forces she brought with her. They descended upon them like predators, quickly destroying half of her fleet. They barely had time to scatter before they were boarded. The Jedi took no prisoners, she realised. So much for their Code.

The whole ship shook again and she wondered how long it will last. Will her life end like this? After all she's been through, everything she sacreficed, would she meet her end choking in space, or exploding along with the dying ship? Or maybe she's going to bleed out right here? Or end up crushed under a random piece of debris? The endless posibilities, along with terrible images of her death swam through her mind and she started to breathe more heavily as bile rose up her throat. She felt tears well up in her eyes as despair settled in her stomach, like a rock, holding her down. She was going to die here! After finally taking revenge and claiming her rightful place on the Dark Council, she was going to die, suffocating in cold, soundless space, and her body will float there, forever. Her enemies will celebrate, of this she had no doubt. Perhaps Ravage will even seek out her remains, just to gloat. She wouldn't put it past him. And the Jedi… she felt sick at the mere thought. Was she really going to die because of those hipocrits? She felt denial burn through her, filling her body with new strength and determination. No! She was _not_ going to end her life in some burning ship, and certainly _not_ by the Jedi's actions. She will not let her enemies dance on her corpse.

She was Darth Nox, Dark Lord of the Sith and member of the Dark Council. She will not let it end like this.

With great effort, she managed to get to her feet. Just in time, too, as she felt the presence of numerous Jedi getting closer. It seems her soldiers has fallen. Oh, well. They served her well, and that's what mattered. She started limping towards the bridge, keeping one arm close to the wall. The ship shook again, causing her to almost lose her balance. She heard an exposion behind her, and she started walking faster. The closer she got to the bridge, the more bodies she found. Nothing unexpected, the fighting was thick here, but it was still a depressing sight. Even if she walked out of this in one piece, she would have to start nearly from scratch.

At last, the huge doors to the brige were before her. Nox shakely walked towards them, being careful not to trip over bodies. There were so many of them, so much to rebuild. She warily looked around, probing in the Force for any signs of danger. She was honestly surprised she didn't come across anyone by now. They must have decided she was heading to the escape pods. Good. It will give her time.

She walked in, looking around at the carnage. Nox limped among the bodies, towards the big, transparisteel illuminator. She noticed something familliar out of the corner of her eye and looked down briefly. It was the captain, Newblo. His bright, brilliant eyes were now empty, staring into the ceiling with a glassy gaze, and burnt holes were scaterred on his usually neat uniform. He didn't even have his signature hat. Shame. She actually liked the guy. He was one of the few competent officers in the Empire.

She was broken out of her musings by a loud explosion from behind her. Footsteps echoed from the corridor she walked through. It seemed they figured out she didn't plan on using the escape pods. She stumbled to the main console, nearly falling over in the process. A blaster bolt hit the ground next to her, causing her to set to work immediately. She pressed a few buttons, closing the brigde off. She knew it won't hold them forever, especially if there are Jedi involved, but it will slow them down, and that's all she needed.

Nox ran a diagnostic on the ship's systems. Most of them were offline, and it of course included the hyperdrive. She heard a crash behind her, but she kept her focus on the task. She checked other systems. Those not immediately necessary to her survival were still active, if barely. The life support worked quite well, though. An idea came to Nox's mind and she quickly starter rerouting power to the engines and hyperdrive. With luck, she will get rid of the intruders _and_ survive. She heard a _hiss_ behind her and a smell of ozone entered her nostrils. She was almost out of time. Nox glanced at the console. Just a few more minutes. Nox turned to the door, taking her lightsaber and igniting it with a _snap-hiss._ The gloomy bridge was slightly illuminated by a red glow as she raised her saber in a defensive stance, using her pain to fuel her power. She will need it.

The blue, glowing spot marked a circle of red-hot metal on the gray doors. In a few moments, the blade done it's work and retracted. Nox knew what was about to happen and threw out her hand, holding the chunk of metal in place with the Force. She felt Someone's will pushing against her own and she grunted, looking back a the console briefly. Not long now. She bared her teeth with effort, as another Jedi joined forces their companion. She won't be able to last long like this. Growing desperate, she prepared a wave of telekinetic energy, which she threw towards the doors, sending the cut-out fragment towards her enemies. She heard screams and furious shouting, as well as the distant sound of bodies hitting the ground. She smiled grimly. At least those Republic dogs will suffer some losses, even if her plan does not succed. Three people emerged through what was left of the entrance. There was a _snap-hiss_ and blades of light materialised from their hands. Jedi. 'They're probably going to lanch into some rant about surrendering,' Nox thought.

''Darth Nox,'' one of them, holding a blue lightsaber, started. ''In the name of the Galactic Republic and the Jedi Order you are under arrest.''

''Surrender,'' The second one, holding a green blade, added. ''And the court will be more merciful.''

'Typical,' she thought. But it was to her advantage. She sneakily glanced over her shoulder. A few seconds. Alright, she just have to keep them talking.

''Has that ever worked?'' She mocked, raising her blade a little higher.

''Some people have common sense,'' The third one said with a smirk. ''And we're taking you in, whether you want it or not.''

''You will try,'' She said, just as the ship jerked forward, throwing almost everyone off balance,

Nox was prepared for it, though, and she dove towards the console, activating the hyperdrive and not even bothering to put in the coordinates. The stars ahead begun to blur and her stomach twisted, a common feeling she associated with hyperspace travel. She spun around, using every bit of her power to throw the assaliants back. Then, she plunged her saber deep into the floor, surrounding herself with a Force bubble, that will hopefully protect her from being sucked into space. The ship suddenly accelerated, and her enemies went flying back, into the void. Alas, even she couldn't handle this for long, and the world went black.


	2. The Wreck

Despite the early hour, everyone could tell it was going to be a beautiful day.

The sun was just rising when a Richard woke up, as usual much too early for a boy his age. But then again, he always was an unusual child, everyone told him that ever since he could remember. The voices that said so changed in the five years he was living in this world. First his parents and sibling, then his neighbours and friends, the latter sometimes trying to offend him with that phrase, calling him a weirdo and staying away. He didn't mind it, though, another one of his peculiarities. His daddy told him that being special is good, so he liked it. The others were just jealous!

Richard sat up in his bed and yawned, stretching his little arms as high as they would go. He brushed some of his unruly, brown hair behind his left ear to keep it from restricting his vision. His vibrant green eyes looked around the room, taking in the mess on the floor. As soon as he saw it, he let out a groan. He tided his room yesterday, he really did! At least, he thought so. He was almost sure. Anyway, the room didn't stay presentable for long. 'It happened again,' he complained mentally. He cleans up, goes to sleep and wakes up to find the room in even worse state it was previously. It was especially bad after he'd have a nightmare. It was really strange in his opinion. He'd blame it all on gnomes, but his daddy said they don't exist and he knows everything.

The boy shook the thought out of his head and swung his tiny legs over the side of the bed, lowering himself carefully to the ground. Even for a five year old, he was short and the bed was almost at his eye-level. It annoyed him sometimes. Especially when his sister would be mean to him and tease him about it. 'Some day, it will all change,' he vowed silently.

Richard tiptoed to the door of his room, as if someone might hear him, if he makes a noise. He stood before it for a moment, trying to decide if he should once again try to reach the door knob. After a minute, he just shrugged. Two hundredth time's the charm, as he likes to say(only when it suits him). He straightened and stood on the tips of his toes, reaching his hand as far up as he could. He stuck his tounge out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, letting out a soft grunt of frustration when his fingers just barely brushed the door knob. He sighed angrily and gave up, feeling a flush of embarassment and dissapointment heating up his face.

'I wish the stupid door would open, already' he thought grumpily. He was about to look around for the chair he usually used, when there was a click and the door slowly swung open, creaking loundly. He pondered about the strange occurence for only a moment before chalking it up to as his victory. Those who'd hear about it didn't need to know the details.

The boy grabbed a change of clothes and crept sneakily out the door, careful to make absolutely no sound on his way through the hallway leading to the stairs. Fortunately for him, the long, soft carpet placed there by his parents dulled his footsteps and he quickly made his way downstairs. Once there he changed out of his pajamas, got dressed in a light, colorful jacket and a pair of comfortable shoes and went outside.

The scene there was magical. The dawn's light cast long shadow over the grass. In some places the streams of sunlight bathed it in a warm glow. The mid-autumn leaves were coloured in the various shades of yellows and oranges. The chirping of birds only completed the gorgous image. He walked towards a nearby wooden bench, avoiding the many piles of fallen leaves gathered in his house's backyard. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, just about to climb onto the bench when he got the strangest feeling. Uneasiness settled itself in his stomach and his nose wrinkled at the sudden and brief smell of ozone. He opened his eyes and climbed onto the bench. He stood on top of it and straightened, looking off into the distance, in a seemingly random direction. There, over a tall hill, he could just make out the faintest sign of smoke. Something was there, he realised, and even without any evidence he knew it wasn't a trick of his imagination. There was a fire, and his parents said that meant someone needed help. He took a moment to think about his next course of action. He should really wake up his parents. They would know what to do, they would call the firefighters and take care of everything! But suddenly, he did what he never thought he would. He doubted his parents. What if they won't do anything? And if they do, what if they're too late? Someone might need help right now and his parents always told him to help other people. It will be better to go ahead, he decided, find out what's going on. Then he would call the firefighters. Richard smiled in glee at his clever plan. It would work, and he would be a hero, like from the stories his parents told him! His mind made up, he went back inside to take the first phone he saw, which, in this case, was the one belonging to his sister. Then, he set off, feeling like a mighty hero in shining armour, riding off to a glorious battle.

Richard walked quickly, hastily passing the neighbours' houses, and pretty plaines surrounding the little town he lived in without taking anything in. Fortunately no one was outside at this hour, or this would be a very short 'rescue mission'. It almost seemed like no time at all when he arrived at his destination. Only, it wasn't quite what he expected.

Instead of a collapsing building, a huge accident or even a battlefield, there was a metal construct. It was the biggest thing Richard ever saw, seeming to stretch as far as an eye can see. It appeared to be in pieces, with many small patches of molten metal scattered about the wide opening. There were three bigger pieces of debris, looking slightly better then the others. They were surrounded by fire, and, out of the remaining grey shards of metal, sections of the dark grey frame stuck out, twisted in random directions, reminding Richard of bones of the great dinosaurs' skeletons he once saw in a book. It looked terrifying and his mind was suddenily overcome with images of scary aliens the adults sometimes talked about. The boy started turning back, ready to tell his parents everything and let them handle everything, when something came to him, more of a feeling then a thought. Someone's still in there, alive. How he knew that, he didn't know and was too scared to think about. He stood there in indecision, his mind telling him to run, to get help. Yet, his feet remained rooted to the ground. Could he really leave whoever was in this creepy wreck, knowing every second counts? With a sigh, he forced his feet to move him in the direction of the metal giant.

Another strange thing happened there. After walking a few meters, he suddenly got a strange feeling to get away, to leave this place as quickly as possible and don't look back. He paused, considering it, but eventually shrugged it off and went back to marching, thinking it was just a normal feeling and would soon pass. But the closer he got, the more this feeling intensified, until he had to literally stop himself from running back home and hiding under his bed. Despite the warmth of the day, there was a strange coldness creeping down his spine and spreading across his body that didn't seem connected to the weather. At last, after many minutes of forcing himself to walk forward through sheer force of will alone, he stood there, dwarfed by the metal skeleton of what he assumed was once a spaceship. There wasn't much to see from up close, except a strange, big, hexagonal symbol that miraculously survived mostly unscathed. Richard wrapped his arms around himself in a futile attempt to fight of the cold seemingly creeping into his very being. He began looking for a way in, but soon realized it wasn't necessary. There, in front of him, was a big, gaping hole in the hull, surronded by fires and molten metal. Fighting the ever-growing urge to run, he carefully crept forward. Despite the fires on either side of him, he was shivering violently. Finally he entered the ship and soon found himself lost. He thought for a moment, a task made difficult by the shaking of his legs and the almost overpowering urge to _get away from here_. Wait. That's it. He could use this strange feeling as a compass, it was the only way. He started walking, his footsteps echoed slightly in the sections that managed to stay closed off. The cold increased with each step and he was surprised his breath wasn't coming out in clouds of steam. He could barely stand, his legs felt like they had no bones in them. After many harrowing minutes of walking down large corridors, surrounded by nothing, except fire, molten metal and destroyed, grey walls, he came upon a pair of huge doors. They weren't destroyed in the way everything around him was. They still seemed in good condition, with only a big, idealy round chunk of it missing. He was shaking not only because of the cold, but also because of the overpowering fear. His legs barely supported him, his breath came in short, terrified gasps and his heart was beating wildly. This had to be it. Giving himself a moment to ensure he won't chicken out, he stepped through the ruined door.

Once again, it wasn't what he expected. There was a wide bridge stretching out in front of him, leading to a cracked window. On both sides of it, much lower, were platforms with many sparking devices he could only assume to be computers. He looked to the front of the room, noticing a dark shape laying on the floor, surrounded by a big puddle of red liquid. His mind, every atom of his being screamed at him to run, but he managed to ignore it. With a grunt of effort, Richard took a step forward, than another, until he was right beside the shape. He slowly, hesitantly reached down and, grunting, turned it onto it's back. Seeing the stranger's face made him freeze.

The figure-woman, he noticed, was a _human_. Which was the last thing he expected in this place. She was dressed in strange, black robes and armor, in some places stained red, and her matted, black hair framed her face like a halo. The face was ulike anything he's seen before, with smooth, pale skin, high cheekbones, long eyelashes and full lips. There was a red, swirling tattoo on the left side of her face. The woman's visage was certainly memmorable and beautiful, but the childish mind of a five year old didn't register that. He was about to stand up, when her hand shot forward with the speed of a bullet, seizing his wrist. It happened to fast for him to react in any way except turn his gaze at her face. Staring back at him through half-open eyelids, were two unsettlingly yellow orbs, before dissapearing as her eyes closed. The grip on his wrist slackened and Richard stumbled back, breathing heavily and looking at the black-clad figure with wide eyes, as if she was about to stand up and attack. After half an hour, he managed to calm his racing heart and stood up on shaky legs. With relief coursing through him, he slowly took out his sister's phone, his numb fingers nearly dropping it, and called for an ambulance using the number his parents taught him. He managed to ignore the feeling he was doing a grave mistake.


	3. The Awakening

The next time she woke, she heard beeping. Continuous, monnotone, annoying beeping.

Then other senses kicked in. Everything hurt, she could barely breathe without causing pain to spike in her chest. She noticed she was lying on something soft and her groggy mind struggled to figure out her location.

Having not come up with a solution to her problem she tried to open her eyes, but even that was proving difficult. Her eyelids felt like they weighted a ton each. After what seemed like an eternity of struggle, she managed to crack one eye open, just a fraction. She felt her faintly registered surprise at her surroundings. She was in a small room. Her vision was blurry but that didn't stop her from registering the whiteness of the floor and walls. Had it not been for the pain, she would have thought she managed to get into some kind of afterlife. The infuriating beeping was coming from several stationary, blurred shapes, almost resembling squares. She had half a mind to fry the strange machines with some lightning, but couldn't make her fingers even twich. That's all she could see with one eye half open. She wanted to see more of teh room, but she didn't think she would be able to turn her head even an inch, judging by the unnatural effort she put in even slighly opening one eyelid.

Suddenly, one of the blurs, a taller, more slender one she didn't notice before, moved. The sound of approaching footsteps seemed too loud in the almost silent room. She started struggling, trying to force her limbs to move, but it was of no use. The blurred figure kept getting closer and closer, until it stood beside the bed she was laying on.

''Ah,'' a distinctly female voice exclaimed. ''You're awake.''

Awake? She didn't remember falling asleep. In fact, remembering anything was like looking through a fog. Where was she? What happene-

Then it hit her.

Everything came back in one, sudden moment, the memories causing her eyes to widen. Was she captured? Is that, where she was? In a med bay, awaiting trial by the Republic? She had to get out of there! With every ounce of strength she had, she tried to push herself up, but she achieved little before she had to fall back onto the bed, gasping as pain flowed through her body. She barely registered a hand being placed on her shoulder, but was too preoccupied with the agony seeming to fill every part of her body to bother shaking it off. Besides, with the state she was now, she probably couldn't do that even if she wasn't nearly groaning from the tourture her wounds were putting her through.

When the waves of pain finally subsided, she became aware of the other woman's voice, saying something frantically, as well as the concern she could feel in the Force.

''Careful, ma'am!'' The nurse screeched, adding a new source of discomfort for her patient. ''Your injuries were very severe, and you shouldn't move so soon after waking up!''

Nox had half a mind to break the other woman's neck for telling her what to do, but stopped herself, considering her situation. She's gotten hit pretty badly, and that stunt with the hyperdrive could only worsen her injuries. Moving obviously wasn't going to help her, but she couldn't really stay put if it _was_ a Republic facility. Somewhere Nox's gut, she started to have a feeling that wasn't the case. But she didn't got her place on the Dark Council by acting on such feelings. Her vision was begging to clear and she glanced at the nurse, a short woman with short, blond hair and a white outfit, devoid of any Republic insignia, that did little to hide the curves of her body. It seemed all her beauty manifested lower than usual, however, as her apperance could only be described as average, with a roundish face covered by make-up and quite common features, some of them she swore she saw a few times before. Whatever. She didn't need to look like a dancer to be a good source of information, she reasoned.

Nox opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Her mouth felt like she had been stuffing sand into it and her throat was as dry as if she had spent hours under the twin suns of Tatooine, and she _did_ have more than enough experience with it. At least, the muscles in her face didn't hurt, that much. The nurse, noticing her struggle, pointed a finger at her, silently telling her to stay put, before moving out of the room in a hurry. Nox managed to raise her head an inch off the pillow to glare at the retreating woman's back, silently cursing her for the unnecessary gesture.

'Stupid, pathetic weakling,' she thought bitterly. It was quite obvious she couldn't do much in her current condition, much less escape! How can the galaxy spawn such morons was beyond her!

After a few long, silent moments, the nurse returned, carrying a glass of water in her hand. She approached Nox and put her free hand behind her head, lifting it up and bringing the water to her lips. The Dark Lord let out a small, undignified noise, before deciding to bear the embarrassment, thanking the Force none of her enemies were here to see her so vulnerable. The first gulp brought another spike of pain with it, and she flinched away slightly, choking a little, before it turned to relief, as the moisture brought a soothing sense of coolness to her throat. She began drinking greedily, like a hungry child, given a bottle of milk. When the glass was emptied of its contents, Nox could barely stop herself from asking for some more. She closed her eyes and laid back for a while, savouring the plesant feeling of moisture in her throat. It lasted only a second, though, as she was brought bakc to reality by the sound of the glass being put away, presumably close, if her ears were working correctly. She opened one eye and glanced at the nurse, standing awkwardly beside the bed. Nox sighed, half-sitting up and opening her mouth to begin questioning.

''Are…'' Her voice came out quiet and hoarse, and she coughed to clear any dryness stubbornly remaining in her throat. ''Are you with the Republic?''

The nurse blinked, as if not expecting her to ask questions. Then, her average features twisted in confusion.

''I'm sorry?'' She asked, tilting her head to the side like a confused animal.

''The Republic,'' she repeated slowly, as if taking to a child. ''Are you with them?''

A poorly disguised look of discomfort took replaced confusion and the nurse took a step back, as if Nox was about to lunge on her. Nox promised herself she will, just to spite her.

''I-Ah'' She other woman said, not-so-subtly casting her eyes towards the door, as if to calculate the distance separating her from it. ''I d-don't know of which 'republic' you're talking about.''

Nox wanted to scream in frustration at the woman, but didn't fancy having her throat going hoarse again. She thought briefly about just using the Force without gesturing. She was more than sure she could manage to choke one person without lifting a finger. On the other hand, if she wasn't captured by the Republic, it would by wise to keep her cards to herself, at least until she understood her situation a little better. Well, more than a little would be preferable. Her mind made up, made eye contact with the nurse, slightly nudging the slightly ajar door closed.

''Could you please tell me where I am?'' She said, smilling sweetly, all the while imagining all the ways she could kill the insufferable woman.

''Uh… Saint Luke's Hospital,'' she stuttered, then after a moment added: ''I-in Virginia.''

'Strange,' Nox thought. She didn't recognise any of these names. Perhaps the Republic was trying to trick her? No, it couldn't be, she didn't feel any deception in the Force. Maybe the ship crashed on some backwater planet and she was found by some peasant? But but most planets with a semi-civilized society was at least mentioned in some archive. And this planet could technically be put in that category, judging on the crude, yet still advanced in comparision to some other peoples, devices. This one was probably far in the Outer Rim, maybe even in the Unknown Regions. She could only hope the citizens of this planet had functionable hyperdrives.

Suddenly, the other part of her train of thought hit her. She must have been found by someone. But who…

Suddenly, a memory, this time recent, floated to her mind. She remembered, as if it was a dream, but she remembered. Through her pain-filled haze, she caught a glance, the briefiest of glances, at the one that found her. A small boy, a youthful face with brown hair, that made his bright greeen eyes stand out. That wasn't what caught her attention, though, what made her remember such seemingly insignificant child. It was his presence in the Force. The boy radiated pure power, so much so that, for an instant, she felt the urge to look away. Even her apprentices didn't possess such raw strength. But it was untrained, and she was surprised someone hadn't noticed it. She noted in her head to pay a visit to her rescuer. He could prove most useful.

''I'm afraid I don't know this country very well,'' Nox once again spoke to the nurse, this time adopting a helpless tone of voice. ''Could you give me some source of information about it?''

''Uh… S-sure,'' the other woman said, visibly relieved. ''I'll let the doctors know your awake, too!''

Nox watched for a moment as the nurse walked quickly out of the room, just shy of running. Then, the Dark Lord of the Sith laid back down on the soft bed, getting comfortable and closing her eyes. She would bide her time. For now.

… **.**

Three weeks later, Nox's condition visibly improved. She could finally move on her own, though walking was still proving to be a problem, and she had to take breaks every few minutes to catch her breath. It was still better than before, and that was all that mattered.

Every minute she didn't spend sleeping or exercising, she passed with her nose buried in the many sources of knowledge she was provided with, which, to her horror, also included books. Books! Truly, this was a primitive place if they were still using something so uncivilized. Her terror only grew, however, as she started reading. Apparently, this 'Virginia' was a state belonging to the 'United States of America', which was just one of many countries on this planet. By the way, the planet had a really _stupid_ name! Earth! Someone most likely ran out of ideas with this one. It got worse the more she learned. Turned out, most vehicles were still moving on wheels, the local equivalent of the HoloNet was pathetically underdeveloped, slow and limited, and, worst of all, the space travels were rare and the vessels needed much more power to lift off of the ground, plus they didn't reach further than their solar system. When she found out about this, she quickly brought up astronomy-related information on the datapad-like device given to her, expecting the worst. Yet, what she found exceeded even the worst scenario. That's how she found herself gaping at a picture of the galaxy. A galaxy that was not hers. It was simillar in shape, but the systems were all wrong. 'Maybe messing with the hyperdrive was a bad idea,' she thought.

She was broken out of her reviere by the sound of the door opening, three people dressed in black suits emerging from the corridor. Two of them walked forward, while one stayed near the door, hands folded in front of him. Nox frowned slightly. She didn't need the Force to know these men were trouble. They practically had 'ENEMY' stamped on their foreheads. One of them, wearing sunglasses, even though they are inside a building and it was a cloudy day outside, motioned to his companion, who silently moved to the other side of the bed she was lying on. Obviously, that one was the leader of this bunch.

''Ma'am,'' he spoke evenly. ''We would like to have a word with you.''

Nox forced a lost, scared expression.

''I d-don't think you're my relatives,'' she said with fake nervousness.

''No,'' the man replied with a smile that was probably supposed to reassure her. ''We're not.''

He took a badge out of his poket and showed it to her. It spoke: ''CIA''.

''Central Intelligence Agency,'' he explained. ''We were hoping you could answer some questions.''

That didn't sound good, Nox decided. It seemed the local government found out about her existance. It couldn't mean anything good for her. Her only choice was to play along,

She gave a small, timid nod, avoiding eye contact. Thankfully, the man bought it. He smiled again.

''What's your name, ma'am?'' He asked.

That question was supposed to throw her off, probably. They must have thought she had a name that's impossible to pronounce. Fools.

''M-maya, sir,'' she answered him, forcing a stutter.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his eyebrows momentarily lower in dissapointment before shifting back to the previous soothing expression. She smiled in her mind.

''Can you tell us what happened?'' He was speaking to her as if she was a child, and Nox almost wished things would go wrong, just so she'd have an excuse to kill him. Eh, She might kill them anyway.

Nox made a show of holding her head, rubbing her temples as if trying to get rid of a headache.

''I… I don't remember…'' she whispered in a confused tone. ''There was… light and heat and fire…''

''Go on,'' the man encouraged.

''My…'' she stopped, trying to remember what those vehicles were called. ''Car. It swerved off the road. I blacked out, and…. I woke up here.'' She looked at the man as she was saying the last part.

''i see…'' the agent squinted at her, bringing a hand to his chin. ''We talked to the nurse. She told us you asked about… a republic?''

Kriff. That was the answer she didn't prepare for. What was she supposed to say?

''D-did I?'' This time, the stutter was real, as much as she hated to admit it.

She looked at the man's face. Something in her expression must have tipped him off, because she noticed the corner of his mouth make the smallest of moves. That's when she realized the acting was for naught. Fortunately, the agent didn't.

''This facility is insufficient to treat your injuries appropriately,'' the man said, holding a hand out to her. ''We'd like to take you to a place where you can fully recover.''

Nox looked at the hand offered to her. An idea began to form in her head and she allowed a faint smile to greet her face. Looking into the man's eyes she extended her hand, as if to take the offered limb. The man's smile was fully visible now, a look of triumph on his features.

'' _Argh_ ,'' the agent screamed as electricity ran through his body, the force of the blast throwing him against the far wall. His back impacted the wall with a loud thud and he bounced off of it slighly and landed on the floor, where he stayed, motionless. Nox smiled seeing this, feeling the Force once again flow actively thorough her. She lifted her hand and watched as sparks of Force Lightning jumped between her fingers. The man by the other side of the bed took a step back, startled, and she whirled on him as fast as she could in the position she was in, pointing her hand at him and allowing the torrent of lightning to shoot out from her fingertips. The blueish, crakcling energy enveloped him and he screamed as it took him into the beeping machines that annoyed her so much. The third one snapped out of it fast enough to reach for his weapon, but the arcs of electricity found him before he could get it out of it's holster. A shout of both pain and terror tore out of his throat as he was lifted of his feet and sent flying through the door, the force ripping it out of it's hinges. He smashed against the wall of the corridor, the impact causing him to meet his end. Nox rose slowly, reveling in the screams of shock and fear erupting all around her, in the fear, like honey to her senses, radiating in the Force. She drew on it, commanding it to fill her with strength. It obeyed her every command as she slaughtered everyone in the building. Out of everyone the nurse's death was the most excruciating as Nox mixed the ideas she'd come up with during her recovery.

After everything was done, the Dark Lord of the Sith, standing among dozens of bodies and breathing in the scent of burned flesh, considered her options. There was no way of getting her home, she knew that much. She looked down, thinking of what she learned about this planet. Whether she wanted it or not, this was her home now. And if so… it had to be fixed. She remembered reading about Earth, divided into countries. She can give them unity. Strength. But she couldn't do it alone. She needed an apprentice.

She closed her eyes opening herself to the Force. There, among billions of inhabitants, shining like a candle, was the boy that found her.

Her new apprentice.

 **Hello, dear readers!**

 **I'm not dead! I'm so sorry I didn't upload for quite a while, but I had exams practically every day, plus loads of homework. I'll try to make it up to you!:D**

 **Thank you for your patience!**


	4. The Meeting

Richard woke up, shivering.

The boy sat up in his bed, wrapping his little arms around himself. Why was it so cold? Was it winter already? Brown eyes glanced to the side of the room, towards the only window in the room. One of his eyebrows raised slightly in confusion, noticing the distinct lack of snow outside, and the multicolored leaves still on their places in the trees' crowns. Then why was it so freezing in here? Richard hesitanly swung his legs off of one side of the bed, jumping down the small distance between his feet and the floor. He glanced again out the window. The sun was pretty high on the sky, guiding the day into a beautiful afternoon. Richard's confusion grew. He must have slept in, but he never does that. He tries to remember if he has done something especially tiring the day before, and suddenly remembered the weird metal skeleton and the woman. He shuddered at the memory. The quiet that has fallen over his room now all to simillar to the eerie silence of those grey corridors and suddenly all he wanted was to get away, find his parents and throw himself at them. They would know how to make him feel better.

His gaze shifted to the door, slightly ajar, with a thin column of faint light streaming through the crack. That could explain the cold, he reasoned. He walked forward, his bare feet thudding softly on the wooden floor of his room before being dulled by the carpet in the corridor. He heard sounds downstairs and headed there, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. When he was halfway down the stairs, he heard words, uttered by the familliar voices of his parents, and he felt more relived then he should be. Of course they're here! They're his parents! Where else would they be?

He didn't question it further, however, as he ran the rest of the way down the stairs, turned around a corner and burst into the kitchen, ignoring the cold of the white tiles against his bare feet. His father saw, or maybe heard him first and he put down his newspaper, smiling brightly.

''Good morning, son!'' He said, scooping him off the floor and placing him in his lap.

''Good morning, daddy!'' Richard replied, but his voice was less cheerful then it usually was. His father frowned.

''What's wrong?'' he asked with concern, using one of his hands to brush a few strands of his brown hair out of his eyes.

Richard looked at the man's face, quite simillar to his own, but avoided meeting his hazel eyes and instead focused on the spectacles, placed low on his nose. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it almost immediately, his face scrunching up in confusion. How was he going to explain what he was feeling?

His mother turned slightly from the frying eggs, looking over her shoulder at him, her green eyes filled with worry.

''What is it, sweetie?'' She asked, looking him over carefully.

Richard gave up in his search for words. ''I'm cold,'' he stated simply, pressing against his father in an attempt to gain some warmth.

His parents looked at each other, this exchange seeming to contain a whole conversation. His dad moved from his son's back, palm landing lightly on his forhead, where it stayed for a few moments. The man frowned.

''Is he coming down with something?'' A new voice entered the conversation, making him jump. His sister was also in the room, sitting at the brown, wooden table and looking at her phone, her long, dark hair already aquainted with a brush. She glanced up briefly, her green eyes resting on his for a moment. ''Because I don't feel like getting sick.''

He twisted in his father's grasp and looked at her, sticking his tongue out in her direction, Heather mirroring the expression. At that moment, the cold seemed to intensify, as if buckets of freezing water had been dumped on him moments before. The feeling spread all over him body, and Richard started shaking, like a leaf moved by a gust of wind. Richard turned back to his father, who was eyeing him with concern. His mother turned the stove off and walked over to them.

''Did you check his temperature?'' She asked her husband, already pressing the back of her hand to her son's forhead.

''I did,'' he answered, frowning in confusion. ''It seems normal.''

''Well, maybe…'' the woman started, but was cut off by knocking on the front door. They looked at each other for a moment, wondering who would come to visit. The knocking sounded again, this time a little louder.

''I'll get it.'' Heather sighed, getting up from the chair she'd been sitting on with an exaggeratedly slow moves. Before she even stood up fully. Her mother raised a hand in a silent command.

''No,'' she objected. ''I'll get it.''

With that she moved out of the kitchen and turned left, dissapearing around the corner.

… **.**

On the other side of the door, stood a tall, slender woman. Her dark hair framed her beautiful , heart-shaped face, spoiled only by a nasty bruise on her cheek. Her skin was pale, like, instead of blood, ice flowed through her veins. Her outfit, at least, what she could see, consisted of, a pair of form-fitting jeans and a black, leather jacket. A pair of sickly yellow eyes peered at her through a few bangs of her raven hair, that had fallen on her forhead.

She took a small step back from her visitor, gasping quietly. Golden eyes met her own and she looked away, too late to stop those orbs from burning into her memory. They were… unnatural. That scared her.

''Y-yes?'' She asked, stopping that train of thought before it fully formed. ''Can I help you?''

''Yes, actually,'' the yellow-eyed woman spoke confidently, with an accent that sounded English. ''I'm looking for a boy. Small, brown hair, green eyes. Have you met him?''

Olivia Carter's eyes narrowed with suspicion. That sounded too familliar to be a coincidence. But why would anyone look for her son?

''Do I know you?'' She questioned, an egde to her voice that wasn't there before.

''I don't think you do,'' the other woman stated. ''My name's Maya. I take it you know the boy I'm looking for?''

''He's my son,'' Olivia answered, looking intently at the woman, as though her eyes would detect any lie. ''What do you want with him?''

''I just wanted to talk,'' Maya said nonchalantly, her lips twisting into a faint smirk. ''And thank him for saving my life.''

Olivia blinked, unsure if she really heard that correctly. Her five-year-old son, saving a life? When?

''I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about,'' she stated bluntly.

''He didn't tell you? Shame,'' the dark-haired woman said with a pout even Olivia could tell was false. After a moment, the look on Maua's face brightened. ''I know! Maybe bring th boy here, I think he'll be able to recognise me.''

''I don't think that's a good idea,'' Olivia objected almost immediately. ''How about you tell me exactly-''

She was interrupted by a gasp, coming from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see her son.

''Oh, that's a pleasant situation,'' Maya said as she caught a glimpse of Richard, her smile widening. ''I've been looking for you, dear boy!''

Olivia didn't like that smile. It seemed almost, possesive.

''H-hi,'' Richard greeted shyly, taking a few steps forward, but staying behind his mother. His head poked out from behind one of her legs.

The other woman seemed to notice the hesitation and she sighed, lowering herself to one knee and smiling sweetly at the child.

''I think we got off the wrong foot here,'' she stated. ''My name is Maya, and I've come here to thank you and to talk.''

''W-well, your welcome.'' The boy replied, looking down. ''M-my name's Richard. Nice to meet you, I guess.''

Olivia glanced down at her son, about to scold him for giving his name to a complete stranger, but Maya spoke again.

''Richard,'' she said, as if tasting the word. ''That's a nice name.''

Richard blushed a little, his gaze still focused on the ground as he mumbled his thanks. The woman smiled and stood up, running a hand through her hair. She shivered a little.

''It's cold here!'' she exclaimed, tugging her jacket tighter around herself. ''Can I come inside for a bit. If we continue to talk here, little Richard might catch a cold.''

Olivia was so close to saying 'no'. They didn't know this woman, and her attitude rubbed her the wrong way. She opened her mouth to refuse, prepared to say goodbye and slam the door closed, but stopped. They weren't like that, she reminded herself. They didn't refuse shelter to anyone who needed it. And jugding by the purple bruise on her cheek, as well as the way she was leaning more on her right leg and the slight winces that showed on her face, the woman was wounded. As much as she didn't like the woman, she didn't want her to collapse in the middle of the street because she didn't like the colour of her eyes. Plus, she had to admit she was curious about the whole 'Richard saving her' story.

''Of course,'' she found herself saying, instead. ''I'll make some tea.''

She already turned around, ushering Richard to walk in front of her when she replied.

''That would be appreciated.''

With her back turned, however, she didn't notice the triumphant smile playing at Maya's lips.

 **Hello, guys!**

 **Finally, we're slowly leaving the introduction behind and getting right on the the main plot. I'll try to get another chapter posted tomorrow, as my penance for neglecting you the whole week :D**

 **Read and review, and once again thanks for your patience!**


	5. No Choice

The silence that befell them when they were all sitting at the table in the dining room was tense and a bit hostile. The whole family and their guest sat in the spacious dining room, a cup o tea in each adult's hand. The air was heavy with an uncomfortable, awkward silence. Richard was sitting the furthest away from the stranger, trying to suppress his shivering. Heather was occupying the chair next to him, looking between their guest and her parents with curiosity. The aforementioned adults sat at the end of the table, the mother and father on either side of Maya. Olivia was glaring suspiciously at the other woman, while her husband looked at the interaction with confusion. Among them all, only the unexpected visitor seemed unaffected by the unwelcome atmosphere, casually drinking her tea in a way that would've made a queen jealous, glancing at Richard with unnatural curiosity every once in a while.

No one knew what to say, so the awkward silence continued for a few minutes. Finally, Heather seemed to decide to try to get rid of the tension.

''So…'' her voice cut through the quiet air like a knife, and all eyes turned to her. She shifted in her seat and looked down momentarily, but quickly raised her gaze. ''Richard saved you? Now I'm curious.''

''Ah, yes,'' the yellow-eyed woman replied with a chuckle, causing Richard shiver for an entirely different reason. It seemed strange to him. Despite the seeming warmth behind it, the sound sounded wrong, but no one seemed to notice.

''I think it's quite a story,'' she continued, oblivious to his thoughts.

''Could you tell us what exactly happened?'' The girl's father joined the conversation.

Maya looked slightly to the side, a little bit of confusion visible in her yellow eyes.

''I… don't remember much,'' she admitted. ''Just a moment of consciousness. I saw Richard, then blacked out. When I woke up, I was at the…'' there was a pause, but it was so short it went ignored. ''Hospital. They told me I was found by a boy.''

She looked at Richard, gold meeting green.

''By you,'' she added with a smile.

Richard looked down, his cheeks burning slightly with embarrassment, the cold momentarily forgotten. This lady seemed nice, he reasoned with himself, trying to push the strange feelings of cold and _wrongness_ out of his mind. She just came to thank him. What was wrong with that?

''We'll have to watch him more carefully now,'' the stern voice of his mother broke him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see the scolding stare aimed at him. His gaze quickly returned to the table and despite the cold bothering him, he managed to groan in his head. He didn't want to be in trouble.

His mother looked at him for a while longer, and suddenly he _knew_ she was proud, at least a little. He straightened his back a little, his spirit lifted up by the unexplainable realization.

''What exactly happened that put your life at risk?'' The woman continued, her eyes growing hard as they returned to the stranger sitting next to her.

Maya looked uncomfortable, her eyes widening a little and her breathing speeding up as if remembering an awful memory. And once again, the feeling of wrongness he felt just a few times in his life joined the cold that seemed ever-present. Something was not right here. He felt like… like he was being lied to.

But why would anyone lie?

''I…'' she started, her fingers clutching the white cup just a little tighter. ''I had an accident. I don't really remember the details, but I crashed into something, and then… I woke up at the hospital.''

Most of the gathered people nodded their heads in sympathy, seemingly content to drop the subject. Richard watched the woman out of the corner of his eye, his head still bashfully bowed. The strange feeling grew less insistent now, just a stray thought, a sensation, like something floating around his mind, too far away to touch. He wanted to make more sense of this, but the only things he could focus on were the thing being said, and the constant assault of coldness on and within his body.

''I didn't hear anything about an accident in the area,'' his mother questioned, no pity for her guest. Her husband gave her a disapproving look, but she ignored it, staring intently at the woman.

Maya's eyebrows twitched, stopping just short of a glare. She took a deep breath.

''It happened… far from this neighborhood,'' she said with a sigh. Little wrinkles appeared on her forehead as she made a thoughtful face as if she was looking through her memory. She looked like she was about to add something, but the silence was broken before she managed to open her mouth.

''How far?'' His mum demanded, her voice sharp as a dagger as she twisted to look at him. There was no pride now, just anger, disappointment and worry. Richard's head dropped even lower as if he was trying to disappear into himself. He wrapped his arms tighter around him, hoping someone will speak up, but it was clear the woman wanted an answer from him.

''I-it…'' Richard stuttered, his eyes still glued to the wooden tabletop. ''There is this hill. I just-''

''The hill?'' she cut him off incredulously, their guest's presence forgotten. ''You can't just wander that far from the house, something could have happened!''

''I wasn't wandering.'' The boy protested weakly. He looked up, hesitantly making eye contact. ''I just-''

He fell silent, his little eyebrows narrowing in thought. He wasn't sure what _exactly_ had him walk so far from the house. There was just something… weird. A feeling he couldn't explain.

''Well?'' his mother prompted after a minute of tense silence. ''What was the reason you left, without telling anyone?''

He opened his mouth, the shameful 'I don't know' on the tip of his tongue when Maya interrupted.

''You wasn't just walking around aimlessly, were you?'' She asked in a manner that made it obvious she knew the answer. ''You _knew_ something was wrong. You _felt_ it.''

Richard's head whipped to the side abruptly, his wide eyes staring into hers with shock. How… how did she know? Did she read his mind?

''You're confused,'' she stated, a smile as gentle as it was triumphant playing on her lips. ''Don't worry. You felt this because you are _special._ Just like I am.''

This only made his confusion grow. Special? He? He slowly opened his mouth, about to ask her what she meant, when once again another voice filled the silence.

''Whoah, I'm lost,'' Heather exclaimed, looking between her and Richard. ''What do you mean, lady?''

Maya sent her a glare, and Richard could tell the interruption annoyed her. The boy saw his sister squirm out of the corner of his eye, her gaze falling to the floor.

''I mean,'' she spoke to her, but her eyes went back to Richard. ''That your brother was born to do great things. He is meant to _rule_.''

The woman was looking at him strangely now, possessively. Her eyes filled with a weird hunger and he suddenly felt like a tool.

He felt his stomach twisting in sudden apprehension and his shock mixed with fear, causing him to lean back a little. That wasn't the answer he expected. Rule? What does that mean? He was beginning to understand the strange feelings he thought were tormenting him and wished he listened to them. The gaze of her yellow eyes had him petrified. Every joint in his body seemed to freeze in place, his muscles turn to stone, his blood turn to ice. The only thing active was his heart, drumming a fast rhythm in his ears.

He wasn't the only one unsettled by the woman's speech. Heather's head snapped up, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. But despite the uneasiness she obviously felt, she shifted closer to her brother, almost unconsciously. His father looked at Maya carefully, suddenly realizing the person they let in might not be completely sane. His hand crept towards his back pocket, where he always keeps his phone. His mother was already reaching her hand to grasp the other woman's shoulder tightly, a sneer on her face and protective anger burning in her eyes.

''I think you overstayed your welcome,'' she said venomously, her hand squeezing Maya's shoulder hard enough to make her wince. ''Leave, and stay away from my boy.''

Their guest's head slowly turned, her yellow eyes staring daggers at the woman. His mother shifted slightly, but then her eyes filled with steel and her grip tightened. Maya's face twitched again, but then the wince became another glare.

''I see you didn't like my words,'' she said coldly. ''Allow me to phrase it differently.''

Her arm lifted and her fingers curled and Richard felt _something_ in the air a moment before his mother's face twisted in a confused frown. She coughed, her free hand flying to her throat as if something was stuck there. She gasped for breath, Both hands clawing at her neck now as she collapsed from her chair and onto the floor. His father reached for her, mouth open in preparation for a shout before he stopped. His hand going up, touching his throat lightly as if tugging at an invisible collar. The only thing that came out of his mouth was a wet gurgle as he too fell to the ground.

Richard watched, terrified, as his parents laid on the floor, choking on something that wasn't physically there. His mouth went dry and his body trembled as he sat helplessly, his terror freezing him to his chair. Suddenly there was a gasp from beside him, and after a moment of hesitation, he slowly turned his head to the source, afraid of what he'd find.

Heather gasped, her face already taking on an unhealthy red color. She was leaning heavily against the table, quiet gasps leaving her as she desperately tried to breathe. Her attempts didn't last long before she slowly slid off of the chair as if her strength had been sapped from her.

Richard's eyes were glued to his sister as she laid on the floor, choking. Her attempts grew more desperate as she clawed at her throat. Her eyes grew wider with every passing moment. Her lips moved as if to say something, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was a wheeze.

"S-stop," he jumped, not realizing he was speaking before he heard his voice. He swallowed nervously as a pair of yellow eyes turned to him.

"Please," he continued, his voice taking on a higher pitch as tears started falling from his eyes and down his cheeks.

The woman looked at him impassively, her eyebrows narrowed in concentration and her forehead glistening from sweat.

''Only you can make me release them,'' she stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

''H-how?'' Richard sobbed, his eyes pleading.

Maya smirked despite the strain inflicted on her mind. His family members were turning a scary pale color and Richard was worried that they were dead. The woman's spread her finger further apart, resulting in a series of gulps. The boy's shoulders slumped with relief as he looked down on his still-breathing sister.

''This is your first lesson, boy,'' the monster said with a hint of impatience in her tone. Heather struggles became more desperate and Richard looked up to see their captor tightening her hold. She smiled and it was one of the most terrifying things he's seen in his short life.

He realized he was shaking. His whole body was being wracked by fearful sobs, his every muscle seemed to be made out of stone, even breathing was proving difficult. For a split-second, he wondered if he wasn't being choked too, and a new wave of terror swept through him at the thought.

''You are scared,'' the monster's voice once again drew his attention to her. ''Good. Use that. Transform your fear into anger. Only that will give you the strength necessary to stop me.''

How was he supposed to do this? He couldn't! He couldn't save them! He was normal. _He was normal and he was so scared._

He noticed the captor's fingers twitching slightly out of the corner of his eye and he forced his gaze to snap back to her, shivering at the sudden wave of disappointment the didn't feel _his._ Oh, no had he done something? She's going to kill them because he'd done something! He didn't want to _die_!

''I am losing patience, boy,'' she warned him coldly. ''Do what I tell you to, or watch your family die.''

Richard tried to force himself to focus. His head felt like someone stuffed it full of cotton and his heart was beating against his ribcage as if it wanted to tear itself free. He thought about the fear he felt, about his parents laying there, choking, about his sister watching him with eyes filled with so much _terror_...

He felt his breakfast rising into his mouth. How was he supposed to _do_ this?! He didn't know how!

He didn't know how and now they're going to die.

''Hm..." the monster said suddenly as if thinking out loud. ''Maybe I will take care of the girl first. I wonder how loud she can _scream_.''

He felt something. A spark of protective anger deep inside him, heating him up from the inside. He latched onto that feeling like a lifeline, frantically shoving all the fear he felt into it. In a manner of moments, the spark became a fire, which soon became a roaring inferno, heating him up like a furnace. He closed his eyes and focused, channeling the feeling out of it and through his body, the heat seeming to scorch his veins. His arms raised on their own accord and the energy flooded outwards, knocking over everything that still remained on the table and striking the monster. She staggered back a step, her hold on his family disappearing and the sudden silence room was filled with coughing.

Richard looked at the items that got knocked over, then at the monster standing a few feet in front of him, then finally at his hands. Amazement, disbelief, and fear painted a wild expression on his face. His gaze drifted to his sister, the only one besides the witch he could see. She was still half-laying on the tiled floor, one of her hands massaging her throat as she took huge gulps of air. But her eyes were as wide as they were before, staring at him in shock.

''R-richard?'' She rasped before coughing violently. The boy slowly reached out a trembling hand, worry joining the strange mixture of emotions twisting around in his stomach. Heather let out a whimper and scooted away slightly. Richard withdrew his arm, his eyes feeling with hurt. They were scared of him now. Another wave of vomit travelled up his throat and he swallowed, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks.

The realization that nothing will ever be the same.

A slow clapping sounded from in front of him and he turned his head to see the monster approaching. She gave him a terrifying smile and he flinched, a whimper escaping his throat.

''Well, I'm impressed,'' she said a few seconds later, standing over him. ''You are a quick learner.''

Richard looked down, too scared to speak or meet her gaze. She seemed to pick up on his hesitation and elaborated.

''The energy you just used is called the Force,'' she bent down and grasped his chin with one hand. She ignored the flinch he gave and lifted his head upwards, his green eyes meeting her yellow ones. ''It's an energy field created by all living things. It flows through everyone, but only some have the ability to command it. To make it do what they want.''

She smiled again and another spike of fear sent his heart racing. He tried to pull away, but his attempts had no effect.

''You and I are one of those people,'' she continued, sounding like a teacher explaining something to a child. ''The superior ones. And that little push was just a taste of true power. I can teach you so much more.''

''Please, stop,'' Richard said weakly, his terror making every muscle tremble. He didn't want to learn. he didn't want to leave. He just wanted to go to bed, wake up and find out it was all a bad dream.

The witch seemed to pick up on his thoughts and scowled. She harshly turned his head to the side, his eyes falling on the figure of his sister on the floor.

''Look at them!'' she hissed into his ear. ''They're afraid of you. Do you really think the will let you stay here? That you can just go back to the way things were? They would probably give you away.''

''N-no!'' He protested, refusing to believe this. ''T-they wouldn't...''

''They would give you to a laboratory. You would become a test subject to those who are meant to serve you,'' she spoke on, seemingly not hearing his protests.

''That's not...'' he started to say, but was interrupted.

''You would forever be shunned from society, no longer treated as a person just because you threaten them,'' her voice filled with a new kind of venom as she continued. ''You would be a _slave_.''

He remained silent this time. It wasn't true... was it? They could never give him away, they loved him. They always said so, they took care of him. It's not possible.

But then he remembered the fear in Heather's eyes and another wave of sickness washed over him.

What if it was true? Is that what his life was going to be now? A freak? A thing?

He glanced at Maya's face, her yellow eyes burning with passion as she spoke. And as he watched her, he realized there _was_ another way. He could go with her, on a path where he would likely have to hurt people and become like _her_ but would be safe. He had to choose.

A thing?

Or a monster?

The thought of becoming even slightly alike to Maya was revolting to him.

But then he imagined the alternative. He imagined living in a closed off cell. Imagined sharp tool digging into him. Imagined people looking at him as one would look at a rare animal.

And that was no choice at all.

''O-okay,'' he said, unable to ignore the awful taste the words left on his tongue. '' L-let's go.''

The monster smiled triumphantly.

''Good,'' she praised. ''My apprentice.''

 _You had no choice._

 **Hey guys!**

 **So, remember the time I promised regular updates. That didn't work. I'm sorry, I really am, but (as you could see) I can't do that. The updates may not come regularly but I'll make sure it's worth the wait.**

 **Read &Review**

 **Thanks and sorry again.**


	6. First Lessons

She took him to her hideout the same day.

They had left immediately after the incident and Richard couldn't even say goodbye. They'd walked towards the street in front of the house, where a lonely car had stood, it's owner inside, trying to rev the engine. He had paid them no mind at first, fighting the uncooperative machine. Finally, after they'd walked right beside the vehicle, the man had reacted. He looked up in annoyance, already rolling the nearest window down, mouth opening to yell when he'd stopped. Even now, Richard wasn't sure whether the cause of that was the unnatural colour of Maya's eyes or the expression of fear on the boy's face. Could be both.

To his credit, the man had snapped out of it very quickly, and while he'd been clearly disturbed, he'd tried to put on a brave face. Twisting his features into a scowl, he'd rolled the window halfway down and barked:

"Are you blind, lady? Get the hell off the street!"

If Richard had been in his right mind, he would've winced at the language. In that state, he could only look at Maya, and now couldn't help but shiver at the memory of her expression.

The woman didn't look offended by the man's tone, although Richard faintly remembered feeling a spark of deep-seated anger that was not _his_. It had felt like... a terrible memory, momentarily taking over thoughts before it was crushed. In spite of the feeling Maya _smiled_. It had been the scariest expression he'd seen her wear up to this point, full of cold cruelty and sick, predatory anticipation.

"Oh my, I seem to have lost the way," Maya had said, her voice deceptively sweet and not suiting her expression at all. "But I'm sure you wouldn't mind helping us out. Just a small favor between civilized creatures."

Her arm had moved upwards halfway into the sentence, her hand waving in front of the man's face. Suddenly, his eyes grew visibly blank, his tense grip on the steering wheel relaxing.

"I wouldn't mind helping you out," he had repeated, his voice completely monotone and so unlike the previous irritation. "Just a small favor between civilized creatures."

Maya's smile had widened and, moving her fingers in the same motion as before, she had continued.

"You're in no rush. You will give us a ride."

"I'm in no rush," the man had confirmed, though everything about him had screamed 'urgency'. "I will give you a ride."

"Wonderful," the woman had replied, as though it was just a normal conversation. Then she'd grasped a handle placed on one of the doors and, after about a minute of intense staring, managed to open it. She'd stepped aside and gestured for him to get in first and Richard had climbed into the vehicle, still too shocked to do anything other than be obedient. Maya'd gotten in right after him and he'd done his best not to look at her. It must've taken them a few minutes to settle, and Richard remembered stealing a glance at the driver. He had been staring out the front window, silent and a little too relaxed and the gears in his head had finally started moving, though not enough to figure out how such a thing could be possible. So he'd settled to watch silently, desperate for anything to take his mind off of the huge turn his life had taken just a few minutes prior.

Maya'd glanced at him and he'd quickly ducked his head, trying to appear as small as possible. He remembered spotting her smirk out of the corner of his eye before she'd silently raised her arm and pointed directly ahead. There had been no words, no head movement, not even a glance at the rearview mirror. The bewitched man had pressed his foot on the pedal, sending the machine in a wild dash forward, barely managing to avoid the meager traffic cutting through the town. The sudden speed had pushed him to the edge of the seat and made him realize the importance of seatbelts and he'd quickly searched for one with his eyes and buckled up right in time as the car swerved to the right, nearly crashing into a passing truck.

"The Force allows us to influence the weak-minded," The woman had explained, bending down to whisper it into his ear. "This is just a _taste_ of the power I can give you."

The ride had continued for what seemed to be hours and only halfway through he'd gathered enough courage to look out the window.

They had long since exited the city by then.

Richard had felt the numbness return. He remembered the realization registering in his brain. He'd passed the point of no return. From that moment, his fate was in the hands of the devil sitting beside him.

His blank mind had failed to register the vehicle stopping, or the arm, fumbling slightly with his seatbelt and tugging him out. He had noticed their new hideout, however.

It certainly wasn't much. In fact, it was so unappealing that a thought had managed to pass through the fog in his mind.

"Did we take the wrong turn?"

Even calling it a shack was a courtesy it didn't deserve. Old, wooden stairs. surrounded by rotten railing, were leading up to a porch that creaked as if it would collapse at any moment. Then there was the door, so neglected it looked like it would crumble to dust at the lightest touch, on hinges so rusted it seemed possible to pull the whole thing out with the slightest tug. The paint on the walls had long since vanished, the chipped pieces that still stubbornly held some colour almost completely hidden by layers of grime. The whole thing was crowned by patches of rusted roof tiles that had to be held together by some miracle.

To sum it all up, it looked less stable than a house of cards built by a five-year-old.

They had stood there, before the house-shaped pile of wood for minutes, whether wondering how it still stood or just hesitating to enter, Richard even now didn't know. Suddenly he'd registered movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Maya had turned to their driver, smiling coldly.

"Thank you for your services," she'd said, her voice filled with fake sweetness. Then her arm had moved upwards again, her wrist twisting sharply. There'd been a loud _crack_ and the man's head had jerked, his twitching body soon falling to the ground with a thump so loud it'd made Richard jump. Maya looked at him, and the scary grin was replaced with a serious expression.

"This is a lesson for you," she stated, her yellow eyes staring at him intently as if wanting to make sure he'd remember it. "This one outlived his usefulness. And if he is useless, why keep him? You must learn to see everyone as tools to further your agenda. As soon as their worth expires, they should be disposed of. Otherwise, they may hurt you."

His eyes had wandered to the motionless body but quickly snapped back to her. He nodded furiously, trembling. The woman seemed satisfied.

"Search him," she had commanded, turning to look at the car."Bring everything inside.''

He remembered his body stiffening, remembered looking at the corpse, his death still flashing in his mind. He also remembered Maya's impatient look that caused him to get to work, albeit slowly. He'd reached out, touching the body lightly before withdrawing his hand and shivering in disgust. He'd touched the body again, forcing himself not to recoil and began moving his hand up and down the man's jacket.

Thinking back, he didn't think the body itself was what bothered him the most. What did was just how _warm_ the corpse had been. In his head, it made the fact that life had escaped it so recently all the more real.

His fingers had found the first pocket and dove in, gripping the item and pulling away as fast, maybe even faster, then humanly possible. He'd turned to the woman standing over him and shivered at her expectant look. Swallowing, he'd set to work and minutes later, several other items joined the first. Soon, he had been standing with a pile of different objects in his cupped hands. The demon smiled slightly and motioned towards the ruin as if ushering a child. He obeyed.

And now, here he was. Sitting on a stiff, uncomfortable couch, inside a pile of wood that had once been a home, with the dead man's possessions displayed in front of him on a crooked table. It wasn't much, just a phone, a set of keys, some chewing gum, and a leather wallet. He stared into them, trying to keep his mind occupied and silent, but the thoughts still kept coming.

 _She killed him! Just like that!_

The whole day had been filled with shocking events he couldn't figure out how to process. The visitor, this mysterious _Force_ he kept hearing about, the strange behavior and death of the driver.

And the rush of power he felt back home.

It was just... so terrifying, but at the same time, it felt... right. Like he was born for this. Maybe he was? He didn't know anymore! He'd always dreamed about magic being real and now that it, or something similar, was... he couldn't stop thinking about reasons why it _shouldn't_ be.

He wrapped his arms around himself in a vain effort to ward off the already familiar cold. He wished he was still with his parents, even Heather could say something wise every now and then. He just felt so lost and alone.

 _He reached out, wanting to make sure she was okay. Heather whimpered, scooting away and the fear in her eyes hurt so much..._

Richard felt a new wave of sickness sweeping over his body. They were scared of him now, weren't they? They hated him. He could never go back. Never see them again. The tears finally came, falling down his cheeks like waterfalls. They wouldn't even want him back. As unlikely as that seemed, Maya was probably right. They would hand him over to the government, it would only be a matter of time before someone would gather enough courage to take the phone.

The cold intensified and Richard's mind was suddenly filled with a strange realization that _she was coming_. He frantically scrubbed at his face, trying to wipe the tears off as fast as possible. Just a few seconds later the door creaked and Maya walked in.

"Let's have a look at the items you've acquired," she said, walking over and taking a seat at a chair across from him. If she noticed any sign of tears she didn't say anything.

Richard straightened his back as best as he could and resumed his intense staring, having not noticed looking away. He inspected each of the items, trying not to think about anything.

"Apprentice," Maya spoke out and Richard looked to show he was listening. "What are those objects?"

The boy's eyebrow rose in confusion.

"W-what?" he stuttered, trying to think about what she could mean.

"The items on the table?" the woman clarified, her features twisting just enough to let Richard know she was beginning to feel annoyed. "What are they?"

Richard looked at the table again. frantically switching his gaze from one item to another. What were they? What did she...

"T-tools?" the uncertain answer was out of his mouth before he could stop it and he looked at Maya's face in fear, only to see her smiling slightly.

"Exactly," she confirmed, a note of pride in her voice."And do you remember what I said about tools?"

"T-that they have to be thrown away if they're useless."

"That's right," the woman pointed to the things lying on the table. "Now, I want you to look at these items. Keep what you think is necessary, discard the rest."

Richard swallowed nervously, once again casting his eyes at the table. He picked up the closest object: keys. He held them in his hand, thinking. Was this useful in the woman's definition? Did she get rid of the car? He normally would think getting rid of a vehicle so fast was possible but after today, he'd believe almost everything.

 _Let's play it safe_ , he decided, _If the car's still here, good. If not... how much damage can a set of keys do?_

He put the object on one side of the table, glancing at Maya. The woman's face was completely passive, however. He decided to move on to the next thing.

The chewing gum. That was fairly easy and although his childish mind longed for sugar, he put the object on the opposite side from where the keys were. He reached for another.

The wallet. Quite pretty and nice to the touch, he noticed. Not that appearance mattered anymore. He hesitated, realizing his next move would mean invading the man's privacy. Then the image of the corpse, probably still lying outside, filled his mind and he flinched slightly. His fingers opened the wallet, holding it before himself. Credit cards, small, folded pieces of paper and a picture. The image was in plain view and Richard's eyes were drawn to it. Something he regretted immediately.

It was the picture of three people, a little girl, a woman and a man he recognized as the driver. It wasn't hard to guess it was his family. That realization only made him feel worse. The girl- his daughter, most likely- didn't look older than him. Now she was going to live out the rest of her life just because her father was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He felt a wave of irritation and snapped out of his thoughts, taking everything out of the wallet and onto the table, before tossing the thing quickly next to the gum, as if it would burn him if he kept it in his hands a moment longer. He quickly looked his 'loot' over, putting the picture into the 'trash', along with the credit cards. He took the cash and dumped it on the opposite side of the table without even counting it.

Now for the last item. He slowly took the phone from its place, rotating it in his hand and inspecting closely. It looked quite expensive, with a large, touch-operated screen. It was extremely slim and he reckoned it could even fit into one of the many gaps that could be found around the house. He refrained from activating it, afraid he'll see more pictures of the eternally incomplete family. Instead, he wrapped his fingers around it tightly, considering its uses. It was a valuable tool, both for communicating and searching for information. Plus, it may be worth a lot of money.

He moved his arm to the pile of 'necessary' items and laid the device lightly on the unstable wood. His fingers, however, still held on as his mind struggled to think of any reason why he _shouldn't_ keep it. Unfortunately, no ideas came to him and with one last moment of hesitation, he freed the phone from his fingers.

Maya let out a curious sound and his eyes darted to her quickly, his body starting to tremble. Had he done something wrong? Was she going to punish him?

The woman's face, however, didn't betray any disapproval, nor did it contain any satisfaction. Her arm came up to the table and Richard flinched back, but no strike came. He dared to look in front of him and saw her hand take the money and set of keys before she rose off the chair and walked over to him.

"I hope you remember this lesson," she spoke. "Now, come. You'll need your strength for tomorrow."

He shivered but stood as well, taking a reluctant step in her direction. He momentarily glanced towards the phone, the only thing not taken from the pile. Maya must've noticed his look because she turned to him and said:

"Take it, apprentice. You'll need it to understand this lesson better.''

He felt his eyebrows narrow in suspicion. Why was she giving him this? Did she want to teach him responsibility?

He didn't question her, however. He reached out and grasped the device.

 _What harm can a simple phone do?_

 **Hello there!**

 **It took a while to write this and it might be the longest chapter yet! It was initially going to cover more of the story but I added some things and then thought it would be too long, so I split it into parts. I'll try to get the next chapter out soon.**

 **Read & Review.**

 **Thanks and have a nice day.**


	7. Truth, Lies and Realizations

Richard had never had trouble sleeping before.

He had nightmares, of course, like everyone. It always spooked him, just how real some of them were. But his parents had never needed to comfort him much. He'd just crawl into their bed with a few words of explanation and after his father said it was just a dream and his mother ran her hand through his hair briefly he would just fall asleep.

It's not that they had not wanted to do more. They just hadn't needed to.

He'd never laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling with eyes he hadn't been able to close for more than a few minutes, with thoughts racing through his mind too fast to really grasp them and his brain ignoring any sleepiness that might come in favour of dealing with them, no matter how badly his body needed rest.

No.

Now that his mind had managed to catch this little bit of information before it slipped away, Richard was sure it had happened before.

It had been just a few hours after he'd come back from that wreckage. He hadn't talked to anyone about this, had been in too much shock to do anything other than go to bed and try to just sleep it off.

Then he'd laid there, the time he'd spent in the massive metal skeleton replaying in his mind like a broken recording. He'd been shivering, he remembers, trembling from the strange cold that had latched onto him in that place and then had seemed to seep straight to his bones despite the blanket separating him from the outside world.

And now, here he was. Lying on top of a creaking, broken mockery of his former sleeping arrangements, shivering under a ripped and worn blanket from the same cold he'd first encountered what felt like a lifetime ago.

Only now, he knew the source.

Holding onto the memory helped Richard out of the daze he'd found himself in. The thoughts came slower, giving him the clarity he'd lacked minutes before.

It was only when they slowed down enough to process them that Richard wondered whether it was a good thing.

Because at that quiet moment, lying in the dark with only the sound of the air blowing through the holes in the walls present to rival his breathing, his mind dutifully showed him everything.

It was disturbing, like watching a film in his own head, with him as the main character. Richard would be lying if he said that he hadn't thought of being on the big screen after finding out that there was more to cinema then cartoons. But the last hours twisted that once-innocent wish. Watching everything unfold once more made him ask questions that would never cross his mind, see himself in a light he'd never thought he would be placed in.

His family, choking for breath.

Maya sliding across the floor as _he pushed her away with his mind_

The glazed over look in the man's eyes, the cracking of his neck before he fell into the dirt as he stared, helpless.

The fear in Heather's eyes.

The images came at him with more ferocity, and the cold spread even deeper, coiling around his heart and squeezing it like ripe fruit. He shut his eyes against the onslaught of memories, curling into an even tighter ball and shivering under his moth-eaten blanket.

There was no doubt in his mind. Maya is worse then every villain he'd heard of or watched fall in cartoons. She was terrifying. She was a _monster._

But what did that make _him_?

Every time he'd let his imagination roam free while in the cartoons the villain had been losing spectacularly, every time he'd imagined himself in such a world, it was always as the awesome hero. Rescuing kittens, fighting bad guys and standing before a crowd that cheered his name.

Yet, here he was. In the same house-shaped pile of wood as the obvious _bad guy_ _(girl?)!_ Her _apprentice,_ she'd called him, had said she would teach him. Teach him what? Was he also a villain in this scenario? Was he going to be?

The notion sent shivers of pure fear down his spine. Richard huddled further into himself in a vain attempt to _get the cold away from him mom dad why is it so cold._ He tried to imagine himself doing the same things she did: controlling people's minds, threatening them to get what he wanted, killing without remorse, with a _simple flick of the wrist._ An image suddenly formed in his mind's eye: a tall figure, black from head to toe as if made from darkness itself, wielding a blood-red blade with deadly efficiency. Eyes the colour of blood staring impassively at his victims, surrounded by shadow where a face should be. He violently pushed the vision away, a whimper escaping his throat as he trembled with even more force as if attempting to entirely shake the shadow off of him. He wouldn't become... _this_ , he decided, feeling the spark of defiance warm the tundra that was now his heart, melting the snow and ice off his bones. He smiled slightly, loosening the hold his arms had around his knees and lifting his head out to the world again. _His parents taught him-_

 _His parents-_ The memory of his father's gasps, of his mother's green eyes widening in panic, hit him suddenly and the cold fingers around his heart gave a painful squeeze. His smile disappeared instantly from his face as his shivering began anew. Richard curled into himself again, throwing the torn blanket over his head, hiding the tears suddenly glistening in his eyes. Unfortunately, not even that blanket- the only thing he had now, except the clothes on his back yet not really his- could shield him from the thoughts memories of his parents now brought.

Richard hadn't has had a chance to say goodbye. He hadn't even looked at them. He _couldn't_ _have._

To see fear in their eyes too, watch as they flinched away...

No. He couldn't have gone through that again.

Now, though, it made him wonder.

What did they see, when he'd pushed Maya away? Did they see a hero, coming to their rescue? A villain? Just another freak?

Did they even see him as their son anymore?

The thought made his stomach twist painfully as the tears he'd held back cascaded down his cheeks. He let out a sob, pressing his face into his knees as more came.

His sister's eyes flashed in his mind again, but this time the fear was joined by anger as they stared at him. The once-warm brown eyes suddenly aged, like those of his father, then changed colour to the green he shared with his mother.

(Richard wondered if he would be allowed to keep those eyes, if the colour wouldn't be conquered by the yellow he is quickly learning to hate.)

The next thought hit him, with such certainty he dared not doubt it.

They hated him now.

He wasn't going to see them again.

The yellowed-eyed monster in human skin was all he had now. Her teachings, and mastering them, the only goal available. The cursed power, even now singing in his blood and inviting more coldness from his new teacher's presence, the only way to grow.

(Grow into what?)

Suddenly the cold intensified, killing his train of thought with a blade of ice, and for a moment, Richard felt grateful, because he didn' have to entertain such notions anymore.

His relief ended the moment the door to his room opened with a near-deafening creak, and the person who'd tormented his thoughts barely a minute prior walked in.

Maya blinked, her golden eyes seemingly glowing as she surveyed the room. When they rested on Richard, still shivering from the ever-increasing cold, she smiled and Richard felt the force of his trembling double.

"Apprentice," she greeted him in a voice too warm to suit the frost of her presence. "Now that you are awake, I believe it is time for your training to start."

'I hadn't slept for the whole night' he wanted to say. 'I want to go back to my parents' he wanted to plead. 'I don't want to learn anything from you' he wanted to shout, because _he wasn't the bad guy here, he didn't want to be._

He didn't do any of these things, suddenly remembering her abilities, as well as the crushing weight of the realizations he'd made what seemed like a lifetime ago already.

There was no one to care about whether he'd gotten enough sleep anymore.

His parents didn't want a monster in their home.

And as for not being the bad guy? Wasn't he? Did it even matter?

Richard hesitated just a moment, before obediently swinging his little legs off the side of his 'bed', taking as little time as he could to untangle himself from the twisted mess that his blanket had become through the night, and walking uncertainly in Maya's direction.

"A-alright," he stuttered once he stood at the woman's side. He cleared his throat, trying to sound stronger, like anything but a scared five-year-old. "I'm ready."

He wasn't sure if he succeeded, but if he didn't the woman before him said nothing about it.

"We'll see about that," Maya said, already turning to exit the room.

Not hesitating this time, Richard followed her downstairs.

* * *

They sat around the same table they did yesterday when Richard had sorted through a dead man's belongings. The boy flinched at the thought that the man was probably still lying in the dirt just a broken door away.

Not for the first time, his thoughts turned to the phone he carried, his supposed 'lesson'. Maya's words sounded ominous at best, like a warning. Should he throw it away, then? But how could an unused phone hurt him?

He didn't inspect it too closely, afraid to see more family photos, to violate a dead man's privacy even more.

To once again see the unmoving face of a child he was involved in making fatherless. He shook the thought from his mind, focusing on the things he could do with such a device.

Without proper examination, however, there weren't many uses that came to Richard's mind.

He could call someone. But who? The police? And what they would do with him if they got him away from Maya? Give him to the scientists, like she said they would? How many people know about him now?

Would they even survive against Maya?

Richard shook the pessimistic thought out of his head, but not before his imagination delivered images of uniformed bodies lying on the ground. He shuddered, trying to get back on track.

What were the other options? His parents?

His stomach twisted painfully and he immediately abandoned _that_ train of thought.

What else could he do with the phone, then? Make some photos?

"Before you start using the Force," Maya's voice suddenly snapped his attention back to her. "You must possess more understanding about the gift you carry within yourself."

The woman stood from her seat, choosing instead to pace

"Tell me, apprentice," she began after a moment's pause. "Do you remember what I told you about the Force?"

Richard's brow furrowed as he searched his memories for that specific piece of information. He remembered Maya talking about the Force, but when-

Oh. Right.

Richard winced as the memory was called to the forefront of his mind.

Maya had been choking them, demonstrating the power of the Force in the most terrifying way for Richard's young mind.

Instinctively, he pushed the horrible images of brown eyes filled with fear away from him.

Just the memory he did _not_ want to revisit.

"Well, apprentice?" Maya prompted, looking at him with a furrowed brow. "It wasn't that long ago. Do you remember?"

Suddenly, Richard felt as if cold fingers dug into his head, clawing through the contents mercilessly. He gasped as he felt the memory being forcefully yanked into the light once more.

Richard once more attempted to banish the memory, to think about something else, _anything_ else, but the images remained stubbornly stuck in his mind's eye, held there by long, cold fingers that somehow, in a twisted way, felt _familiar_.

Seeing no way out, Richard gave into the memories. He shuddered as he once again glimpsed the anger on Maya's face, saw his mother, father and sister gasping and clawing at their throats. Maya was saying something, but it was drowned out by the blood thundering in his ears, dimming everything to unintelligible whispers.

 _Please,_ he tried to think, but even that was muted. _Please stop._

 ** _Not until you remember._**

Unlike everything else going through his mind at the moment, the words came loud and clear. Loud, clear, and not his own.

 ** _How perceptive. You're learning. Now, look!_**

Steeling himself as best as he could, Richard stopped avoiding the unpleasant memory. Immediately, the sensations, surprisingly real, washed over him, threatening to overwhelm him. He tried to get them under control, but every time he grasped at the images, they slipped between his fingers, coming back to strike with even more force.

Just as he was starting to slip because of the pressure, the cold fingers returned, wrapping themselves around him, shielding him. They carried him through the flow, and he suddenly was in that dining room again.

The rushing of his blood was gone, the echoes of other memories silenced. Suddenly, everything seemed so vivid that for a moment Richard wasn't sure if this was reality or memory.

The gasps quickly reminded him.

He looked at the people surrounding him, feeling old terror claw at his heart and twist his stomach into knots. He saw his parent's eyes widen as their hands flew to their necks. He heard a gasp to his left.

He desperately didn't want to turn, knowing what he would see.

Suddenly, as if hearing his prayers, the scene changed and his head was forcefully held up, sharp nails digging into his skin as yellow eyes looked into his.

The hold on his mind released and Richard slumped forward, leaning on the table as his small frame shook with sobs and harsh breathing. He turned his tear-stained face to Maya, eyes wide with new-found fear as he suddenly _knew_ , with absolute certainty that she had something to do with this episode.

The woman returned his gaze steadily, not looking even a tiny bit regretful about _braking into his mind._ She regarded her new apprentice with cold eyes.

"In time, I will teach you how to do what I did. And how to resist it. Now," her eyes narrowed with impatience. "I am waiting."

"Y-you said-" He inhaled harshly, something that sounded like another sob. His throat felt dry, suddenly and Richard swallowed to make his words pass through easier. His voice was still hoarse as he spoke. "Y-you said that the Force is an energy field created by... all living things."

Richard took a deep breath, stifling the sob that threatened to make itself heard. His next words came easier, but not by much.

"You said that it flows through everyone, but not all of us can use it."

"Very good, apprentice," Maya smiled. It worried him that he already finds it a little less bothersome every time she does. "There were many beings that held such power, but two groups, locked in an eternal war, have the most notable users in their midst. The _Jedi_ " the word was practically spat out, like something foul. "And the Sith. Us."

Maya stopped in front of him, her posture straight and firm, reminding Richard of his teachers back in school.

 _Former teachers_.

Somehow, Richard doubted Maya would let him go back there.

The woman standing in front of him gestured as she continued her lecture.

"For the sake of simplicity, we, scholars of the Force, claim it separates into two sides: the Light Side, followed by the Jedi, and the Dark Side, used by the Sith."

"We'll get more in-depth with both philosophies and the differences between them, as I believe the best way to defeat an enemy is to first know them. But I will share the basics. The fundamental difference between Light and Dark is the use of emotion. The Jedi ignore their feelings, thinking they will get corrupted by them, and their judgment will be clouded. They claim to believe in 'higher values', like mercy, selflessness or compassion." Maya's voice took a more mocking tone for a moment, before going back to seriousness. "It is hypocrisy. How can one claim to be compassionate, without feeling even an ounce of emotion? How can one claim to be merciful, when one is willing to massacre entire cultures because they are deemed a threat?"

Richard's eyes widened at the revelation. From what he'd heard, he would have thought the Light is the 'good' side of the Force. But why would good people kill so many? Why would good people abandon all emotion? Sure, anger and hatred were bad, but there are other emotions! Don't they just make them human?

When did good and evil become so complicated?

"The Sith, on the other hand," Maya continued, unaware of her apprentice's dilemma. "Don't shy away from their emotions. We embrace them. We are not afraid to feel, from the depths of hatred and despair to the heights of joy. Emotion is what makes us human. It is what makes us stronger. We draw on it for power, as our Code instructs us."

Maya turned her away from him, her hands folding at the small of her back. When she next spoke, her voice was louder and clearer than before.

"Peace is a Lie, There is only Passion. Through Passion, I gain Strength. Through Strength, I gain Power. Through Power, I gain Victory. Through Victory, my Chains are Broken. The Force shall Free Me."

Despite himself, he felt awe filling him at the sound of the words. They sounded so... powerful, spoken with such passion. Inspiring, even. With Maya reciting it with such feeling-feeling Richard assumed the Jedi would never put behind their words, stirred something within him, made him see why people may choose to live by those words.

(He wondered how many hadn't had such a choice. How many people had been forced to adopt this philosophy, just like he was being forced, repeating the words until it was a part of them and such feelings came easily.)

(That thought is what convinces him to regard her words with a certain degree of scepticism.)

Maya once again turned to her student, yellow eyes locking sith green as she looked at him intently.

"You will contemplate the meaning of the words later, but for now, I believe it would be easier for you if you felt it by yourself."

Memories of gasps and cracks of breaking bones once again jumped to the forefront of his mind. Richard felt bile rising in his throat, something he'd never thought he would experience so regularly.

"There will be no lifting rocks," she assured him as if _that's_ what he was worried about. "Instead, you must learn how to freely connect with the force. Normally it is done through meditation, but I was planning to teach you the basics by showing you a simple, but extremely useful technique."

The woman once again took her seat across from him, looking him in the eye

"I will teach you how to detect lies."

Richard stared at her for a moment, slightly taken aback. He had a difficult time wrapping his head about the fact that such a thing was possible. He'd already witnessed too many uses of the Force in the previous hours, and he'd just learned of its existence!

The memory of anger burning within him like fire, fueling the power inside him as he'd pushed it outwards...

Was it going to be the same?

"Focus," Maya's voice once again broke him out of his thoughts and he looked back to her. "Connect your mind with the Force. Use your anger as to help you."

Richard felt no anger. What he felt was fear. Although it was to a lesser extent than before, Richard could still feel it, spread along his body by his hammering heart.

He had a feeling it would never leave.

But now, he knew how to use it.

He focused on his fear, focused on the memories causing it. Once again, he saw his family, gasping for breath, but this time, he managed not to flinch away. This time, he saw past that, to the person responsible, He saw Maya standing there, arm raised, and among the great, tidal wave of his fear, he felt the smallest spark of anger. He grasped it, using his fear as fuel until it burned like a small flame inside him. He kept it like that, ready to make it hotter if need be.

"Good," he heard Maya praise. "Now, seek out my presence."

Tentatively, he reached out with his senses, trying to find what he assumed the source of the cold would be. His mind brushed against something and he immediately recoiled, as his mind was flooded with ice and power. It was like someone dumped gallons of icy water on him. Maya seemed to _glow_ in the Force, and yet her presence betrayed nothing on the surface. At almost feels as though something, or _someone_ else there.

All of it made it nearly impossible to at least get closer.

Suddenly, the glow lessened, and Richard hesitantly brushed against the presence again.

"Now," Maya's voice again. "Focus. I'm going to tell you three things, and you must tell me whether it is a lie."

Richard nodded.

"Alright," the woman took a deep breath.

"I have not yet gained the title of Darth."

The words were alien to him, but suddenly he felt the same certainty that he'd felt many times before.

"Lie," the word was out before he could stop it. "I-I felt it before. When you came... and before that."

Maya made a curious noise in the back of her throat.

"You've been doing it instinctively, then? I should have expected that. The Force often first manifests itself in subtle ways. Though an affinity with mind-reading is rare. Oh, well. This exercise will still help you make your abilities more precise."

The woman cleared her throat.

"Let us continue on with the lesson. I... have not always enjoyed freedom."

"Truth," Richard said, barely holding in his curiosity sparked by such a statement.

Somehow, he was sure Maya had no desire to answer his questions and he wasn't comfortable enough to ask them.

'Very good," his teacher said. "Now, the last one: my name is Maya."

That was true, but... not? Richard's. eyebrows furrowed in confusion. How could someone be both lying and not? Is it a Sith thing?

"I sense your confusion, apprentice," Maya spoke again, a hint of... something in her voice he couldn't quite place.

"I... It feels... weird." Richard said hesitantly. "I-I don't know... It's like you're lying... and telling the truth at the same time."

"Ah," Maya started, sounding like she expected something like this happens. "This is the greatest weakness of this technique. While ordinary, and even complex lies are easy to decipher, half-truths are much more difficult to read."

"Half-truths?" Richard questioned.

"Things, that are neither truth nor lies," the woman explained. " Instead, they are a little bit of both."

Maya looked away suddenly, biting her lip as her face scrunched up into the first conflicted expression Richard saw in the short time he had 'known' her. It was gone a moment later, but for an instant, Richard couldn't help but notice how... _human_ she seemed.

It bothered him.

 _Monsters aren't supposed to seem human._

"Maya is the name my mother had given me," the woman began again, unaware of the boy's thoughts. "We were both born into slavery. She'd died shortly after I got big enough to be useful."

Maya's voice steadily grew in volume and bitterness. The cold returned with vengeance, wrapping around him as if attempting to leach off all his warmth. Richard wrapped his arms around himself, trying to preserve whatever he could.

As suddenly as the icy tempest arrived, it left and Richard was left gasping and shivering for a moment. Maya turned to him again, her yellow eyes once again guarded.

"My Force Sensitivity was noticed, and I was taken away to train in the ways of the Dark Side. After years of hard work, countless betrayals and deaths, I slew my greatest rival and gained my rightful place on the Dark Council, the most important governing body, second only to the Emperor himself. They called me Darth Nox." May- _Nox_ drew herself a little bit taller, and everything about her screamed 'pride' at the sound of her title. "That was the moment I broke my chains."

Nox's eyes once again turned to her young apprentice, and she regarded him with an odd look. After a moment her eyes grew colder as if trying to convey a warning just through them.

"Since you are new to this: as long as you are my apprentice, you are a tool at my disposal. You will obey my every command and listen to my teachings. As tradition dictates, you will refer to me as 'Master' or 'Lord'."

The full force of her icy gaze settled upon Richard, freezing his heart and the blood in his veins.

"Do you understand, apprentice?"

"Y-yes," the boy said shakily. Following his instinct, he slid to the floor, bending so low his forehead touched the floor.

"I-I u-understand... Master."

Through their newly-established link, Richard could almost hear her laugh.


End file.
